Promise Kept
by Kazzy
Summary: Sirius once made a promise to James and Lily. He intends to keep it. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep/But I have promises to keep/And miles to before I sleep/And miles to go before I sleep."
1. Promise Made

**E-mail address – **kazzy@whoever.com**  
Rating – **PG****

**Spoilers – **Can't guarantee there's none from Order of the Phoenix, but I don't think so. Nothing obvious, anyway.

**Summary – **Sirius once made a promise to James and Lily, and he intends to keep it.

Disclaimer – Harry Potter and the associated themes and characters are the intellectual property of JK Rowling; I'm just having them over to play for a while. Notes – This is basically going to be a series of vignettes. This chapter is also surprisingly angst-free, the rest won't be, though. 

*****

Promise Made The Woods are lovely, dark and deep 

_But I have promises to keep_

_And miles to go before I sleep_

_And miles to go before I sleep. –Robert Frost___

Sirius held the bundle as if he would break it. Then he worried he might drop it. He'd never been this close to a baby before and the experience was fast unnerving him in a way that not even a mob of Death Eaters could. 

Beside him his best friend was grinning like a loon. Not at him, but at the baby. James had been unable to take his eyes off the boy since he'd dragged Sirius in here to meet him. Sirius had never seen James this fascinated at anything before, except maybe Lily and that was completely different. The man acted like Sirius held the secret to the universe. Sirius looked down; then again,_ maybe he did_. The baby stirred slightly, sighed softly and settled back to sleep. Any second now and James was going to snatch the boy back.

Since he was the one that still had hold of the boy, Sirius took the chance to look at him. Harry James Potter already had a mop of dark hair, his father's nose, chin and ears. There's was no doubt of this baby's parentage, yet Sirius could barely believe that James – his best friend who had once run around the forbidden forest with him on a regular basis – was a father.

"Sirius?" said James, sounding oddly formal.

Sirius glanced up at his friend and saw that despite his tone the man _still_ hadn't taken his eyes off the boy, "Yes, James," he responded, a note of dryness in his voice.

James apparently didn't hear this and carried on, "Well, you see, it's like this…" For some reason James was finding it hard to say what he wanted to say; either through nervousness or lack of concentration – Sirius couldn't tell. It didn't matter much – he found it entertaining anyway.

"Well, you see, Lily and I, uh," Lily, had she been awake, probably would have found this highly amusing. Or maybe she wouldn't. There was a strong possibility that this strange creature would have Lily as utterly entranced as her husband was. Of course, she generally seemed to have more wits about her than James did. It was hard to be sure.

Sirius decided to be gracious and see if he could bring back his best friend's coherency, "Here." He said handing the baby back to his father.

James took him with a brief look of relief, but still didn't take his eyes off the child, "Thanks," he murmured, "Sirius, Lily and I were talking," he paused as Harry sighed again. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Yes?" He prompted, dryness creeping back in.

"And, well, Harry needs a godfather, and we, we were wondering if you would do it? Be his godfather, that is." His eyes met Sirius' for the first time, solemn and expectant.

Sirius was very glad he'd given the boy back to James. Dropping a six-hour-old baby did not indicate a particularly long or happy acquaintance with its parents. Even if you did count them to be among your closest and best friends. Plus the whole godfather thing? Invitation revoked. "Me?" He practically squawked in surprise, and Sirius Black certainly did not squawk under any circumstances.

James grinned and it was his best friend back, challenging him to some jaunt that was sure to get them both in trouble, "You." He confirmed glancing down at his son, but looking up again, obviously considering this to be a highly important topic. "We trust you Sirius, more than anyone – you know that. We want you to be there if…well, if anything happens."

"I don't know anything about children." Sirius pointed out.

"That's all right," answered James and his voice came out almost dreamily, eyes drifting towards his son, "neither do I." With an obvious effort he looked back at Sirius, waiting for an answer.

Sirius felt his brow crease, wondering if this was an honour he could accept. _An honour_? Of course it was – you didn't ask just anyone to be your first-born's godfather. Especially not in this day and age. Not with so much turmoil happening, Voldemort and dark wizards everywhere, Death Eaters waiting in the shadows. It was a dangerous world out there; something like this implied a lot of responsibility and trust. Sirius had his answer. "Yes," he answered softly, "I will." He caught James' eye, "I promise; it'd be my privilege." A strange joy began to rise in him.

James, once again, broke into a grin, this one even larger than before. He really did look like an idiot. Turning back to his son, he whispered to the boy, "You hear that Harry? Sirius is going to be your godfather – isn't that great?" The boy didn't stir.

"I don't think he's all that excited, somehow."

"Ah, he'll learn."

"I really hope the two of you aren't teaching my son how to find the secret passages at Hogwarts, or how to perform the Bat Bogey Hex, or some such non-sense." Said a soft voice from the doorway.

Both men turned to see the woman who padded across her son's bedroom floor, looking absolutely radiant wearing one of James' old robes pulled over her pyjamas. James looked at his wife, scandalised, "Lily! Of course not!" He paused and glanced over at Sirius his eyes twinkling, "I figured we'd have to wait until he was at least _three_ before we taught him anything like that."

When she reached him, she whacked him lightly upside the head, "James Potter," she said distinctly, "you are insufferable." Then she kissed him softly on the lips, carefully bending around her son. Leaning back she detached the boy from his father's arms, and looked down at him with the same loony grin that James wore, "Hey Harry," she said, "don't pay any attention to them, they'll just get you into trouble all the time." Gently she brushed back a lock of hair from his forehead. "I know you're going to be a good boy," she glared up her husband and his best friend, "isn't he?"

Both knew that tone and knew that it should be respected, "Yes, Lily." They chorused together like small schoolboys to a teacher.

"Good." She said. "Did you ask him?" She queried, turning to her husband.

"He said yes," replied James.

"Good," she said again, tone softening, lips curving into a smile as she looked over at James' friend – and indeed one of her own. "Thank you, Sirius – you have no idea how good it is knowing there's someone to protect Harry if we can't." She stood up on tiptoe and – still mindful of the baby in her arms – kissed Sirius on the cheek, before moving back to settle against James' chest, with his arms wrapped around her.

"Yes, Lily Potter, I swear to you on…Dumbledore's broomstick, that I will be the best godfather Harry will ever have." He placed his hand over his heart and smiled at her winningly in a way that usually made any woman within fifty feet melt.

Any woman that was, except Lily Potter, who just glared, "Sirius, this is serious!" She said, and Sirius had the distinct impression that had her hands been free, she would have waved a finger under his nose. "Dumbledore wouldn't let you have his broomstick!"

He laughed and her solemn expression gave way to a grin, "True." He admitted, and he very much doubted any witch or wizard in Europe would let him anywhere near their broomsticks, not after his rather spectacular, and well-documented crash that resulted in the destruction of his own broomstick. Which he had managed to escape without a scratch. However, the loss of transportation had allowed him to explore other options. He had bought another broom, but he fully meant to create something new and fantastic. Something that no-one else would have. 

He sobered slightly, but didn't give away any of the good feeling in the room, "I promise I'll always watch out for Harry." He found he meant it more than he had ever meant anything in his life. His friends smiled back at him, and he basked in their warmth, their friendship – so freely offered.

In his mother's arms Harry hiccuped, opened his eyes and began to wail, completely disrupting, but not destroying, the moment. Sirius watched for a few moments as the new parents fussed over their son trying to decide what exactly it was he wanted. Then he sauntered from the room, leaving the new family alone. He'd get his time later. When Harry wasn't bawling his eyes out. 


	2. The First

**E-mail address – **kazzy@whoever.com****

**Spoilers – **Can't guarantee there's none from Order of the Phoenix, but I don't think so. Nothing obvious, anyway._This chapter:_ Definite spoilers for 'Prisoner of Azkaban'.****

**Summary – **Sirius once made a promise to James and Lily, and he intends to keep it.

Disclaimer – Harry Potter and the associated themes and characters are the intellectual property of JK Rowling; I'm just having them over to play for a while. Notes – I am truly a horrible person. I completely forgot to say in the last chapter that this was beta-d by lovegrrl. She has done a wonderful job. 

*********

The First… "The woods are lovely, dark and deep 

_But I have promises to keep_

_And miles to go before I sleep_

_And miles to go before I sleep."  –Robert Frost_

He could see the shattered remains of Lily and James' house from the air, as he sat astride the motorcycle he had bewitched to fly. His friends' home was little more than a pile of rubble. Still, he did not permit himself to believe that they, or Harry were dead. Not them. Out of everybody, they were the ones who were not allowed to die. Sirius wouldn't let them.

He managed to keep himself convinced that they weren't dead until he touched down on the front lawn – right where Harry had said his very first word one sunny afternoon. But, up close the house was in worse shape, and suspecting now what he did about Peter and Voldemort, he couldn't maintain the illusion that everything was all right. They would have had no warning. No reason to believe…He was off his bike before the motor had died completely, not even bothering to lower the stand. "_No. No. No._" A strange voice kept repeating the single word over and over – was it him?

The bike, with no stand to support it, toppled over, catching the back of Sirius' legs, scraping away skin and tearing his pants. He cared only about the seconds' delay that it took him to free the tangled cloth. 

Stumbling, he ran for the house. Everything was strangely blurred as he reached the ruined building. Frantically, he climbed over the mess and through what remained of the front door. Inside was even worse than outside: burned wood, collapsed walls; part of the second storey had fallen into the first. The stairs up were completely gone. Possessions lay scattered about:  torn books on the floor and hanging from the bookcase; cracked photo frames with the startled occupants ducking around the edges; Lily's favourite vase in millions of pieces it's brightly coloured flowers ragged and bent; tangled amongst the broken shards.

Desperation gave way to despair. They were gone. He was alone. The silence of the house roared at him in anger, pain and betrayal.

In that moment he heard something that made his heart stop: the cry of an infant. A cold, scared, unhappy baby – but a live one. Long seconds past while he convinced himself that he was going crazy. Yet the noise continued. Deciding he was so far gone it didn't matter, he followed the noise to the rear of the house, exiting through the back door, nearly tripping on a broken broom stick.

Outside the most incongruous sight met him: Hagrid holding the small bundle – even smaller in his enormous arms – that was Harry Potter. The whole scene was so surreal that Sirius stopped dead, disbelieving, and rubbed his eyes. Surprisingly, his hands came back wet. He didn't remember it raining. Maybe there was a burst pipe somewhere that he hadn't noticed? "H-Hagrid?" Was that his voice? It didn't sound like it.

"Hello there, Sirius." Oddly it was the normalcy of Hargrid's voice that hit Sirius the hardest. His knees buckled slightly and he grabbed the railing on the back steps and felt it begin to give way. He let go and stood there swaying until Hagrid – baby cradled in one arm – gently lifted him to the low wall that ran around the perimeter of the property, sitting him there, "There we are, yeh jus' sit there for a minute." Some distant part of his mind identified Hagrid's tone as being gentle and sad, but mostly all he could think was that James and Lily were dead and it was his fault.

When he could finally focus on the world again, he found himself looking into the bleary-eyed face of Hagrid. He slowly realised that this was all highly unusual. Lily and James' house destroyed, his friends apparently dead and Hagrid was standing in their back garden (on Lily's herbs, no less), holding their son. "Hagrid, w-what happened here?" He didn't suspect Hagrid of killing the two, indeed few who knew him would. Particularly those who trusted Dumbledore. Particularly those who trusted Dumbledore, who, in turn, trusted Hagrid and that was enough for Sirius.  Even if you brought Peter…Wormtail…the rat into the equation.

"Ah, Sirius, it was You-Know-Who. He killed Lily an' James. Not this one, though, not this one. He's a fighter, look at 'im. You-Know-Who's gone—"

"Gone?" Interrupted Sirius, not understanding, "Gone, where?"

"No way o' knowin'. But sure as day, he ain't here, an' Harry is. Nasty great slash, though – yeh see it?" For the first time Harry was brought down to Sirius' eye level and he sat up straighter to see the boy, who was still whimpering.

He gasped, he couldn't help it, for across Harry's forehead there was a cut, in the shape of a lightning bolt. The mark of a curse. A failed curse, because Harry was here and alive and Voldemort was gone. 

Lily and James were dead. Harry was alive. Sirius was Harry's godfather. Sirius stood and reached for the child, "Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him."

But Hagrid still held on to Harry, "'fraid, I can' do that, Sirius. Stric' orders from Dumbledore. I'm ter take Harry dir'ctly ter his aunt an' uncle."

"No, Hagrid. I want Harry with me." He heard the pleading in his tone. The last bit of his friends was rapidly disappearing. He had to take care of Harry – for them, and for himself.

"I have my orders. Harry's ter go ter his aunt an' uncle." Repeated Hagrid firmly, "I know yeh mean the best fer Harry, but Dumbledore sent me ter get Harry, and I'm not lettin' him down."

Sirius understood what Hagrid was saying, and with the knowledge that was starting to form in his brain he knew the other was right. But it didn't make him any happier. "I made them a promise, Hagrid. I promised I'd always look out for Harry. I promised them, Hagrid." His voice rose in desperation. Trying convey what he felt, trying to hide from the sinking knowledge of betrayal.

"I know. But yeh need ter talk ter Dumbledore. He has his reasons – yeh know that."

"Yes," he said, conceding. Dumbledore always had his reasons and he was usually right, too. "Fine, but Hagrid, I'm placing Harry in your care – you have to make sure he gets to Dumbledore safely." The knowledge, once accepted, needed to be acted upon.

"Of course." Hagrid seemed a little offended at the implication he couldn't take care of Harry. "But won't yeh come with us? See where Harry'll be?"

"No, there's something I need to do." No-one knew he wasn't the Potter's secret keeper; they couldn't know that at the last moment he'd told James and Lily to use Peter. All they would know is that Voldemort had killed Lily and James and that the only way he could have found them was by their secret keeper. They would think that Sirius had betrayed them, when it was Peter. Poor, weak, un-talented Peter… the perfect secret keeper because no-one would think to use him…the perfect spy because no-one would suspect him. And no-one had.

"All right, then." Came Hagrid's response, but he looked at Sirius oddly, worried, and Sirius realised that he was still swaying slightly on his feet. With an act of will he stood still, and in doing so felt coldness seep though him. One movement gave way to another as minute shivers ran through him. Hagrid didn't appear to notice, looking relieved that Sirius could now stand properly. "Yeh know how to find me or Dumbledore if yeh need anything?" He was still peering at the younger man in concern.

"Yeah." He answered quickly, needing Hagrid to leave so he could…so he could go…go and find…Peter.

"Well, I'll be seeing yeh, then." Murmured Hagrid and he turned to leave. He hadn't gone far before Sirius found enough focus to call out.

"Take my motorcycle, Hagrid."

More staring. Had he any energy to spare he might have been annoyed. "What abou' you?"

He fought the bitter laugh that welled up in his throat, "I won't need it any more." And he realised it was true, one way or another, after tonight his once most prized possession would no longer be part of who he was. He might be dead, or worse, or he might live to see Harry again, no matter what, he didn't want or need the bike anymore.

Hagrid nodded solemnly, and after a moment was gone.

As soon as he could no longer hear the rumble of motorcycle's engine he felt his legs truly collapse this time. For minutes on end he sat there in the remains of Lily's herb garden, shaking. It was as if he had lost control of his body. A little, rational part of his mind could still shout at him to get going, but he couldn't move.

Finally, the sound of the villagers coming was what forced him into action. Being discovered here by muggles was definitely not what he had in mind. He had to go and find Peter…and kill him. Destroy him for what he'd done to Lily and James.

That burning thought cut through the coldness in him, and Sirius Black – now in the shape of a big, black dog – moved swiftly off into the darkness. He had a hunt to attend. Rat was on the menu.        


	3. Innocence

**Title –** Promise Kept**  
Author – **Kazzy**  
E-mail address – **kazzy@whoever.com**  
Rating – **PG****

**Spoilers – **Can't guarantee there's none from Order of the Phoenix, but I don't think so. Nothing obvious, anyway.

**Summary – **Sirius once made a promise to James and Lily, and he intends to keep it.

Disclaimer – Harry Potter and the associated themes and characters are the intellectual property of JK Rowling; I'm just having them over to play for a while. Notes – This is basically going to be a series of vignettes. Special thanks to my beta, lovegrrl. 

*****

Innocence The woods are lovely, dark and deep 

_But I have promises to keep_

_And miles to go before I sleep_

_And miles to go before I sleep. –Robert Frost_

He didn't know how long he'd been there. Years, he supposed, but he wasn't really sure. Days continued on relentlessly. They blurred together until he was sure he'd sat there for all of eternity.

Sometimes he couldn't remember a time he'd been anywhere else, and the ever-present chant in the back of his mind – _I'm innocent_ – held no meaning, other than that to provide an anchor to retain his sanity. Other times he didn't want to remember. The agony that ripped at his soul, the guilt that burned its way through him, made even breathing a difficult task. Still, the chant – _I'm innocent_ – remained, providing a tie to reality. He often wished it wouldn't.

When he wasn't lost, he would listen. His neighbours didn't bother to keep their voices down. Why should they care if they disturbed someone's sleep? It's was not as though there was anyone to complain to. They screamed ineffectual curses at the blank walls, or called threats to the ones who slept safe in their beds, the ones who knew those that hated them were locked away. y. Others would cackle at nothing and no one; perhaps they laughed at themselves finding a twisted amusement in their situation. 

They called other things too. They called to their master, asking for blessings, for him to save them. Or they warned in high, sing-songy voices, that the Dark Lord would return to cast his vengeance on all those who'd punished his followers. None of this interested him. He cared little about the monsters who shared this timeless prisoner. He cared for one thing and one thing only.

_I'm innocent._

He cared that _he _hadn't been destroyed. _The betrayer_ wandered free. He did not doubt that one day _he _would die, and painfully. If he, himself, hadn't been trapped within these impossible walls, with these terrible guards, the knowledge would have filled him with savage glee. _He_ had many enemies and _he_ would suffer, even at the hands of those who _he_ had worked with, had served. The knowledge must terrify _him._

There was the promise, as well. But this barely existed, even in those scant moments he was willing to want to remember. The memories that were tainted with pain were bad enough, the ones that no longer existed were worse. There had been a…child? A boy? He had been good hadn't he? 

What was 'good'?

_I'm innocent._

_"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!"_

_I'm innocent._

_"Azkaban – for the rest of his life."_

_I'm innocent._

No beginning. No end. He had been here forever. He would be here forever. Consciousness began to slip.

_I'm innocent._

A thread of sanity clung to him. He wished it wouldn't. Madness would be such a sweet relief. Death would be better.

_I'm innocent._

Unfortunately, the thread made survival inevitable. Instinct took over and he slipped from one form to another.

_I'm innocent._

The great, black dog curled up on the stone floor, and whined softly. Senses dulled, it laid its head on its paws and closed its eyes. The Dementor-induced pain reduced, but a sharper grief intruded, reminding him that there was no true escape. It also reminded him that he was not allowed to give up yet: he had made a promise. The promise must be kept.

I'm innocent… 

*****


	4. A Shadow in the Night

**Title –** Promise Kept**  
Author – **Kazzy**  
E-mail address – **kazzy@whoever.com**  
Rating – **PG****

**Spoilers – **Can't guarantee there's none from Order of the Phoenix, but I don't think so. Nothing obvious, anyway._This chapter:_ Definite spoilers for 'Prisoner of Azkaban'.****

**Summary – **Sirius once made a promise to James and Lily, and he intends to keep it.

Disclaimer – Harry Potter and the associated themes and characters are the intellectual property of JK Rowling; I'm just having them over to play for a while. Notes – This is basically going to be a series of vignettes about Sirius. 

OK. Extra special thanks to by beta, lovegrrl. This chapter was very bad, but with some very helpful suggestions from lovegrrl it is now much better. 

*****

**A Shadow in the Night** The woods are lovely, dark and deep 

_But I have promises to keep_

_And miles to go before I sleep_

_And miles to before I sleep.  –Robert Frost_

The black dog sat on its haunches and whined softly, all he'd wanted was a glance…but he'd startled the poor boy. Harry's mother would be furious if she knew. To be fair, though, the boy had startled the dog as much as the dog had startled him. He'd tried not to be seen since leaving Azkaban, and now he felt his curiosity had nearly ruined it all. This was not so; there was no way Harry would know he was a dog.

Finding Harry's address had been harder than he'd expected; Lily had almost never spoken of her sister's family. This arose from some kind of estrangement. Pain and family, he knew from experience, often induced a kind of secrecy – an unwillingness to share. You just wanted them to go away. Friends could bring you to that, too, and Sirius could think of one friend that he wanted to go away. And he would. Permanently.

The phone book hadn't been a whole lot of help in his quest. He'd looked at every Durrant and both Durrys, before he remembered the name Dursley. Then he'd searched out four other Dursleys all to arrive here, at this point. The frustration at not being able to find where his godson lived, mingled with the guilt and grief, presented an almost overwhelming temptation to lie down and howl until some Muggles arrived to take him to one of their animal pounds. At least he would be fed. Only the knowledge that it could be wizards or witches that found him pushed him on. That, and his thought of Harry's safety. 

Sirius had gotten lost trying to find the place – all these damn streets looked the same – but there Harry had been, striding along the street, muttering to himself.  He did not need to see his godson with his guardians, at the correct address; what he saw now was enough. A boy – maybe thirteen years old – dragging a trunk, swishing what could only be a wand about. A mop of dark hair completed the picture. Except for his clothes, he looked so much like a past image that Sirius was momentarily winded. The boy was wearing ragbag bunch of clothing that seemed too big for him – but what did Sirius know of current muggle fashions?

Harry had lifted his wand, caught sight of – and for a few seconds stared directly at – Sirius, a look of shock on his face. Some part of Sirius that had been gradually warming since his escape abruptly froze again. Had someone told Harry about Sirius? Did Harry know to be afraid of his godfather? Or was it just Sirius's guise that had startled him? The arrival of the Knight Bus interrupted the scene and Harry became momentarily distracted by the fool who had nearly run him over.

Sirius had taken this moment to slip out of sight and reflect on what he'd seen. Harry. James's son. The messy dark hair he remembered. But those eyes were Lily's through and through. Not just the colour, but they way they looked for everything. Eyes that were scanning the street, but thankfully, this time, could find no trace of the dog. Such an obvious reminder of both his friends winded the black dog, and he, once again, had to fight the desire to give in to his pain. Seeing Harry was far more important, right now.

Was Harry a good boy like his mother wanted him to be? Or was he as much trouble as his father had been? Could he play Quidditch? Was he in Gryffindor? For the first time in twelve years Sirius was…curious. He wanted to know something, wanted to explore. Here was this boy who was well on his way to being a fully-grown adult, and Sirius wanted to have all the details about him.

Well, Harry certainly looked healthy, if a little scrawny. That was good to note. Whatever Lily had thought of her sister and brother-in-law, they seemed to have at least given Harry some kind of a home. He hoped they had treated the boy all right. He'd hate to have to start committing murders now, after spending so much time in Azkaban for crimes he didn't commit.

Of course, he fully intended to kill Peter for everything the man had done. Sirius felt hot rage pour through him, but the only outward sign the great dog gave was the lift of his lips, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Peter. Wormtail. Betrayer. Murderer. He deserved to suffer for the pain he had caused. Lily. James. Sirius. Harry…

Speaking of which: what was Harry doing wandering around the streets alone? Didn't he know? Obviously not. No one knew what Peter was, that he was alive, but surely they must know that Sirius was free? He thought back to the harrowing night he'd spent after escaping Azkaban, and the ones following. Initially, the Dementors had passed him again and again, and each time he had shrunk back fearful that they would figure out, but they never did. They just became more and more incensed at his apparent disappearance.

He had no doubt that the entire wizarding community was up in arms; searching for one of the worst villains ever…he gave a humourless chuckle at the thought. It was so ironic. They were searching feverishly for the wrong man, and they might not know it until it was too late. 

Sirius knew. Sirius had a promise to keep, and he knew. Maybe no one else knew or had to promise to keep Harry safe, but Sirius did. He wondered what Dumbledore was doing and he hoped that the man was taking steps to protect Harry. Still, as powerful and wise as Dumbledore was, he could not know everything. That was what scared Sirius.

He should have never agreed to let anyone else take care of Harry, that night. He should have just taken the boy from Hagrid (was Hagrid still around?) and run straight to Dumbledore himself. There was no proof that Dumbledore would have believed him, but maybe there would have been enough evidence…

It was a hopeless thought. What was done was done. You couldn't go back and change the past; if you could he would have gone back a long time ago and been Lily and James's secret keeper. They would still be alive, and Harry would have parents who loved him and better clothes. Those really were terrible clothes – _was nobody taking care of the boy?_

A stray thought entered Sirius's mind: what about Remus? What about Moony? Was his old friend alive, was he dead? He would hate Sirius; hate Padfoot. He would believe that his former friend had betrayed Lily and James. To think that Sirius had once thought the betrayer could be the Werewolf and had never once considered the Rat. How stupid he had been!

He laid his head on his front paws, tired and hungry, but with so much farther to go. Once he had thought that things would be so much simpler when he was out. Catch Peter. Clear his name. Protect Harry. He hadn't thought about it really. Once he had managed to focus beyond captivity his whole focus had been on 'escape'. Never how to 'achieve his goal from twelve years ago'. Killing Peter.

Peter who was headed for Hogwarts. The same place that Harry was going to. This meant that it was the same place Sirius was going to. He was the only one who knew. Who knew where Peter was. Even if it endangered Sirius's freedom, he was going to where Harry and Peter were.

He rose fluidly, shook himself, glanced at the stop where Harry had been, and moved silently through the shadows. Hogwarts was a long way off and he wanted to be there as soon as he could.

Sirius had promised Lily and James that he would take care of Harry if they could not. So far he had not done a very good job, but that was going to change. He was finally going to get to be a godfather, even if his godson would never know.

*****

**A/N:** _Please REVIEW!_


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